The Fall
by CreativityFlow
Summary: As Sherlock jumps, there's only one man (or Time Lord) who can catch him in time. One shot.


**A ****_BBC Sherlock/Doctor Who_**** one shot. Disclaimer: I own nothing, even though the writers and creaters of these two shows are cruel people.**

"It's a trick. It's just a magic trick."

The tall man could easily see his army doctor friend from where he stood on the edge of Barts Hospital. The dead body of Jim Moriarty lay behind him, nearly forgotten as the consulting detective watched his friend with almost pleading eyes, even though he was much too far away.

With his final goodbyes said, Sherlock Holmes glanced over the edge of the building. Nothing.

He waited several seconds more, listening. He promised he wouldn't be late - but, this was the Doctor. That crazy trench coat wearing man tended to be off every once in a while.

Finally, he heard it - that wheezing metal noise that used to make him cringe, but now brought a ghost of a smile to the detectives face. Briefly, he wondered who the Time Lord had with him this time; the unpredictable blonde, the above average doctor woman, or that insufferable red head.

When the TARDIS doors opened, all thoughts left him momentarily, as he leaned over slightly.

And then, he was airborn. The wind rushed past him, slapping his cheekbones, and ruffling his hair. His eyes were shut tight, and only when he slammed into a wall of water, did Sherlock open his icy orbs to swim up towards the surface, breaking through into the olympic like swimming area.

As he gasped for air, he shook his head, his black curls shaking every which way, and throwing water everywhere.

"Hope I wasn't too late," he heard, and turned to face the man who was nearly as tall as himself.

His brown hair was messier than usual, and his hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets.

"Right on time, for once," Sherlock told him, climbing out of the pool, shuffling his feet and wincing slightly as they squished. He then truly looked at the Time Lord, and furrowed his eyebrow. "You're older than I last saw you. Much older. Where is your friend?"

Sherlock, of course, didn't need to see the Doctor wince, or his eyes to darken. He knew the answer as soon as he asked - he was alone. No annoying Donna Noble, no fiesty Martha Jones, and no friendly Rose Tyler.

Sherlock was shocked - he had never seen the alien look so upset. But he hid it well, as always, and shrugged at the Doctors lack of response.

After the Doctor handed him a towel, he led the detective out of the pool area, and down the futuristic hallways.

"So what's your plan?" the Doctor asked. "Do you want me to pick up John?"

Sherlock immediately shook his head. "John mustn't know," he stated. "It's too dangerous."

"You shouldn't be alone, Sherlock," the Time Lord sighed, sitting in the captains chair.

"What's your excuse then?" the detective demanded.

The Doctor looked at him with sad eyes. "They're gone. Rose, Martha, Donna... all gone." The two men were silent for a moment, until the Doctor shook his head. "So, plans?"

Sherlock thought about what John would do, ask if the Timelord wanted to talk about it, or try to get information out of him. But he was the ex army doctor; he was Sherlock Holmes.

"We have hints on Moriartys web," he stated, walking around the consul. "Mycroft has all the files, and we're meeting in France."

The Doctor scoffed as he fumbled with the controls. "And your brother won't try to take tha TARDIS again?"

"No promises," the detective shrugged.

"This is a time machine," the Doctor reminded. "We could go on a trip before I drop you off."

"You've already proven the Earth moves around the sun, you've made your point." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the Doctors smug face. "But the sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get back to London."

"You're sure you don't want to pick up John?"

Sherlock shook his head more firmly. "It's much too dangerous."

The two genius' stared at each other until the Doctor sighed and backed down. He didn't say a word as he pulled levers and hit buttons. It was a surprisingly smooth ride, with only a slight rumble.

When they landed, Sherlock walked towards the door, but stopped before opening it.

"Doctor," he said. "I'm not sure what happened with your past companions, but perhaps you should follow your own advice. I work better alone. You don't."

And then the consulting detective walked out the door, without even a glance sent to the now lonesome traveler.


End file.
